


SAY WHAT YOU WANT / SAY WHAT YOU LIKE

by sunflower_8



Series: for this day; our self destructive affairs [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Dubious Morality, Explicit Sexual Content, Hate Sex, Implied teacher-student relationship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Mental Instability, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, References to Depression, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, sex to cope, vent fic, you can technically argue the semantics of hate sex as implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_8/pseuds/sunflower_8
Summary: He can’t fault Komaeda for using the sex as a way to self harm. He can’t fault Komaeda for being so familiar with being taken advantage of that he starts making himself open to it. He can’t fault Komaeda for being gaslit so many times that he started gaslighting right back.In another lifetime, if Hinata had met him earlier, gotten to see the peaks of a person he sees sometimes, maybe he’d feel sorry for him.(or, the morality of two are drained and severed, so they falter in their self indulgence and, for all intents and purposes, shamelessly fuck their feelings out.)
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Komaeda Nagito (implied), Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Series: for this day; our self destructive affairs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124108
Comments: 4
Kudos: 97





	SAY WHAT YOU WANT / SAY WHAT YOU LIKE

The door slams shut, all splintering wood and splitting limbs as Hinata hits the wall, Komaeda pressed against him. 

Just another fucking night, Hinata thinks. Just another  _ fucking  _ night, he thinks with a bit more humor, bitter taste of irony as familiar as Komaeda’s mouth sucking his tongue. The other tastes a bit like blood underneath all the heat, but he has a habit of biting his lip, and hey, maybe Hinata finds that hot.

Maybe Hinata finds all this hot, the depraved way that him and Komaeda will fuck as if it’s okay, as if it’s cathartic, like the only damn way to handle their issues is for Hinata to make Komaeda scream into the bedsheets-- and hey, maybe that  _ is _ the only way to handle this shit. He wouldn’t know; he’s no crisis counselor, a fact Komaeda often forgets. He’s just a little fucked up, getting off on someone who’s  _ really  _ fucked up.

Vanilla kind of shit, one could say.

Komaeda already has a hand shoved down Hinata’s pants as Hinata pulls at the white strands in his hair, every tug making Komaeda moan into his mouth.  _ Masochistic bitch,  _ Hinata almost says, but he’d be a hypocrite to call that shit out loud. It’s not like Komaeda biting at his lips  _ doesn’t  _ do something to him.

He breaks the kiss eventually before Komaeda can jerk him off, right here, against the fucking  _ wall.  _ Not like they haven’t done it here, but, Christ. 

Hinata flips them over, which is difficult, since Komaeda doesn’t seem to want to be compliant today, and shoves his sharp shoulder blades against the wall. His pale eyes widen at Hinata’s, as if he didn’t expect that, and Hinata moves forward to shove his knee against Komaeda’s crotch and starts biting at his neck.

Komaeda’s  _ loud _ , is the thing. Really,  _ really _ fucking loud. It pisses off Hinata’s neighbors in this damn apartment building, but he self-soothes with the thought that worst comes to worst, he’ll just kill himself, which isn’t the kind of self soothing tactic he should be using, but it’s not like anybody around him uses much better.

‘Anybody else’ being Komaeda, because who the fuck else hangs out with a bitch like Hinata?

When Hinata leaves hickeys, drawing blood as he bites into Komaeda’s neck, the lithe man against the wall starts panting, pleas and whimpers already coming out. Hinata tunes it out, knows it doesn’t take long before Komaeda hits him with the  _ please fuck me, Hinata-kun, I need you in me.  _

Because Komaeda’s a slut for this, and maybe if he was a little less eager, Hinata would have the heart to feel shitty about it.

Hinata finally tears away from his neck, copper taste in his mouth as he admires the red and purple marks scattered across Komaeda’s shoulders. He grabs his arm and tugs him towards the bedroom wordlessly, because what’s there to say? The common platitudes?  _ Here’s the bedroom, here’s the kitchen, leave your shit on the floor, let the lingerie drop too?  _ What kind of thing do you  _ say _ ?

Komaeda gets comfortable on the bed like he’s been here all his life, anyway, which Hinata wouldn’t doubt if that were true. So, those kinds of introductions are pointless.

Hinata throws his shirt off, letting it join the laundry basket on his floor that’s been there since the start of his depressive episode, and shoves his jeans off, too. Komaeda always watches as Hinata unclothes, so he leaves his boxers off to give him something to  _ beg  _ for. 

The other skips those kinds of preemptive planning, taking his shirt off,  _ shows the cuts going up his entire arm,  _ then sliding off his pants,  _ bruises on his thighs that sure as hell didn’t come from Hinata,  _ takes off the garter and the lingerie,  _ must have stolen it from that whore at school who fucks him up with her cigarette burner in the girl’s bathroom,  _ before finally relaxing against the bedsheets,  _ and Hinata would fucking kill her if Komaeda let him. _

Instead of voicing that, Hinata just slides on the bed and says, casually, “What do you want?”

“You,” Komaeda replies, breathy as ever. “I need you in me, I need you to  _ fuck  _ me, God, please,  _ please. _ ”

“That fucking badly?” Hinata isn’t the slightest bit shocked. Komaeda’s always been so desperate. “Can’t go a day without me touching you? Are you  _ that  _ goddamn needy?”

“You’re not much better,” he argues, and Hinata knows he’s right. “You’re worthless, only  _ barely  _ good enough to have the  _ privilege  _ of having me instead of those videos you watch at night, thinking of me.” He sits up a bit and crawls towards the other, and Hinata holds his skinny wrists tightly as he keeps talking. “The only thing you’re good for is shoving yourself where nobody  _ wants  _ you. You’re just a common  _ pest. _ ”

Hinata waits for the sadistic words to stop before he tightens his grip, glaring at Komaeda. “The only thing  _ you’re  _ good for is opening your legs, isn’t it?” Komaeda lets out a suppressed sound at that, one that raises into a genuine noise of surprise as Hinata pins him to the mattress, running hungry hands across his lithe body and pinching at his ribs. “You’d do it for any person that passes, begging to have something in your mouth, something in your ass, something to make you  _ whole  _ again. You’re such a fucking whore.”

“Are you complaining?” His breath hitches as Hinata shoves his hand underneath the pillows, pulling out an almost-empty tube of lube. 

He doesn’t wait for it to cool on his fingers before shoving a finger into Komaeda’s hole, ignoring the way the other outright  _ moans  _ at that. He’s as tight as ever, despite having done this yesterday, several rounds-- but he’s warm, so Hinata will put up with it. The tightness is good, too, when he fucks him so hard both of them think they’re about to die from it. 

Real good sign that the sex is good, when the two people doing it are horny and suicidal. 

“Not really,” he eventually replies, putting another finger in a bit too early. Komaeda likes the sting, likes when Hinata thrusts them in hard, sharp pains lingering in the morning that are worth it when--  _ there,  _ Hinata’s hit the prostate, judging by the way Komaeda  _ screams _ . “You’re not the hottest person out there-,” which should be true, but isn’t fully, “-but you’re fine. I’ll have you if nobody else does.”

Between ragged breaths, Komaeda avers, “You- ah,  _ ah _ \- you just wa- oh  _ fuck, please-  _ want to  _ have  _ some-some _ thi _ -some _ thing _ .”

Well, Hinata thinks as he lowers himself to thrust his tongue in as well. Komaeda isn’t wrong. 

Shame he can’t say that, though, since Komaeda’s entire body is shaking as he moans and Hinata’s currently occupied tasting and fucking into the heat, lubed up with something that tastes like cherry. Saccharine, but Komaeda probably thought it was sexy, just like the lace underwear he wears even though they have bloodstains.

Hinata’s never asked about the bloodstains.

He pulls away, eventually, rubs the spit on his face off with the sheets, ignores the way Komaeda mutters, “depraved,” even though he looks too fucked out to speak. He skips getting a condom, doesn’t care what happens to him or Komaeda in the morning, and flips Komaeda over by the hips. 

“Are you going to fuck me?” Komaeda asks.

It’s redundant, so Hinata slams into him anyway.

Komaeda screams again, shoving his face in the pillow and damn near suffocating on it to hide it, numb to the way that Hinata fucks him over and over again, setting a brutal pace and hitting the prostate nearly every time. Hinata used to be shitty at this part in the start, used to try so hard and felt so damn insecure over it, over all the shit Komaeda would talk about him being unimpressive, or having shitty technique, or whatever. It took a while to realize that was all bullshit, that Komaeda just doesn’t want to lose control.

But one of them has to, to do this shit. And Hinata won’t let it be him.

He fists Komaeda’s hair with one hand and pulls it up  _ hard,  _ strands ripping out as the other is forced to let out his pitiful screams, nothing to muffle him. It sounds like a damn crime scene-- and it looks like one, too, because Hinata leaves deep wounds in Komaeda’s hips and Komaeda must have scratched up Hinata’s back while he was preparing him. All that the neighbors hearing is an effeminate voice pleading, a bed hitting the wall, and something growling.

There’s one thing Hinata’s taken to heart, from all the insults Komaeda’s shoved at him. It’s that he’s a  _ beast--  _ both of them are, but Hinata uses this to tame Komaeda, so that Komaeda can’t go and do this with anyone else, so that he’s too fucked up to walk around and get himself into trouble, so that nobody with malintent can see a free-reign slut and take control of him.

Hinata’s sure as hell not a good person. But he’s convinced there’s something between the two of them that Komaeda won’t find elsewhere. That Komaeda doesn’t find in the girl that pegs him until he’s bleeding and sobbing in the cafeteria after school, that Komaeda doesn’t find in the teacher that everyone is convinced Komaeda gives blowjobs to in student-teacher conferences, that Komaeda doesn’t find in his own hand in a lonely fucking night-- the deadliest one of all, because that’s how Komaeda ends up telling Hinata about all these kinks, how he found out he has a gun kink because he tried to _kill himself_ and he just _fucked himself with it instead-_

-and Hinata’s a shitty person, but Komaeda is far worse, because all he knows how to do is fuck himself up and fuck other people, swinging on this pendulum. And sure, Hinata’s a hypocrite, because he fucks Komaeda when he can’t think clearly about what the  _ fuck  _ they’re doing, uses his depressive episodes and takes the bits of anger he can feel in the bedroom to feel  _ something.  _

He can’t fault Komaeda for using the sex as a way to self harm. He can’t fault Komaeda for being so familiar with being taken advantage of that he starts making himself open to it. He can’t fault Komaeda for being gaslit so many times that he started gaslighting right back.

In another lifetime, if Hinata had met him earlier, gotten to see the peaks of a person he sees sometimes-- because oh, sometimes he sees the Komaeda who likes reading, who likes taking walks, who is a hopeless romantic that was always hopeless at the romantics, he sees that sometimes and  _ God  _ it fucks him up because he loves it, he  _ loves  _ it-- if Hinata had gotten there early enough to know that Komaeda and only that Komaeda all the time, maybe he’d feel sorry for him.

He should feel sorry, anyway. Because Komaeda is a piece of shit, but it’s so transparent that he’s  _ lonely,  _ that he asks Hinata to stay every night and the only reason Hinata indulges is because he knows only about half the tears are from the orgasm and half the scars are from another. Komaeda always wants to cuddle, Komaeda always wants to help with aftercare, Komaeda always wants to  _ love _ Hinata.

But Hinata can’t be what Komaeda needs. And Komaeda has never once been close to what Hinata wants.

It’s just stress relief. That’s all it is. Stress relief between someone so fucking defeated, and someone so viciously fucked up from trauma that it’s a miracle he hasn’t asked about a suicide pact yet.

Hinata bites Komaeda’s shoulders as they keep fucking, nearly approaching an hour before Komaeda tightens around him, panting in a way that almost sounds  _ pained.  _ Hinata helps out, wrapping one calloused hand around his cock and jerks him off as fast as he thrusts in. 

Komaeda’s pleas start to become incoherent, but Hinata can almost hear his first name, somewhere, as he ignores the way that his heart threatens to give out when he  _ finally _ comes, spilling inside Komaeda. The other’s breath hitches, and he lets out another scream that breaks in the middle as he climaxes, entire body shaking and eyes rolling back as he lets himself go. 

Hinata strokes his hair through it, not yet pulling out despite his exhaustion, holding Komaeda as close as he can-- not because he wants to, but because he knows that without anything grounding the other, the peak of pleasure can get so bad he starts gagging, muttering continuously, almost feverish, and passing out. So, he comforts him as best as he can, waiting until he’s sure Komaeda isn’t so far gone before slipping out.

He gets up and grabs a towel from his bathroom, flipping Komaeda over and cleaning off Komaeda’s stomach while the other’s chest heaves so heavily that it looks like he’s convulsing. He cleans himself off, too, before throwing it on the floor and laying down beside Komaeda.

Komaeda doesn’t hesitate to bury his face into Hinata’s chest, still mumbling to himself as Hinata throws an arm around him and stares at the ceiling. 

Sometimes, he wants to ask if Komaeda’s okay. If there’s any way for someone like that to be okay, anyway. Sometimes, he wants to ask if Komaeda would go on a date with him, one that they can cut off the second one of them gets moody, and sometimes, he just wants to ask the other to move in so that maybe, maybe Komaeda can stop wanting to off himself, maybe they can stop having sex so much.

The sex is always good. It’s usually violent and primal, but sometimes it’s slow, on the days where both are so sluggish that Komaeda can only manage to blow Hinata and spit out the cum in a waste bin while Hinata lazily strokes him until he comes. Either way, it works, it gives something to change the way the day progresses, but goddamn, sometimes Hinata just wants to  _ kiss  _ the guy.

He doesn’t know why. It’s not for a good reason. It’s not because he wants to date him, really-- because he does, but he doesn’t, but he doesn’t fucking know because nobody would ever want to date Komaeda Nagito, a derailing train of a person, but sometimes Hinata gets curious. Wants to try it out, wants to see if there’s something of worth underneath that bullshit--  _ he knows there is, he just--  _ and he can just leave if it doesn’t work, it’s not like it’d hurt Komaeda, because Komaeda’s used to that.

And, fuck, sometimes it  _ sounds  _ like Komaeda wants that. Like how he mumbles something into Hinata’s bare chest that sounds like  _ maybe you’ll make me lovable,  _ and it’s hard to not do exactly what Komaeda wants. It’s hard not to do exactly what Hinata wants.

Fucking Komaeda takes away some nuance-- one of them is dominant, and the other is a brat-- but the aftermath layers on so much more.

“Make me better,” Komaeda whispers, and Hinata runs a hand through the hair that he previously tore at, massaging the scalp. Komaeda tilts into the touch and sighs. “Teach me.”

Hinata bites his lip, avoiding how he wants to nod--  _ and why does he, he’s hardly a good enough person to teach Komaeda, what the hell is it about this guy that breaks him--  _ and replies, “Go to sleep.”

Komaeda just sighs, but he slips into sleep a bit later. His hips will burn in the morning, and everything will hurt, but at least shit is fine for now. At least shit is fine. Just fine, because Hinata has to shove all his thoughts down, because he doesn’t sympathize with the slut he just fucked, doesn’t feel guilty about how easily he labels him that, doesn’t worry about what Komaeda gets up to when Hinata’s too busy to invite him over or visit himself. 

It’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.

Hinata doesn’t sleep, though. Because, maybe none of this matters. Maybe nothing does at all, and Hinata should just kill himself. But he still thinks about what might happen if it  _ did _ . If he wanted Komaeda more than he already had him. What the fuck will happen to the two of them if they continue this.

So, Hinata doesn’t sleep. Big fucking deal. He’ll just fuck Komaeda harder tomorrow. 

But, for now, he traces the contours of his body and wonders, quietly, if he’s no better than the bruises there--  _ if Hinata is just as bad as the whores and professors and abusers and Komaedas that fucked up Komaeda’s body--  _ a body that could have been beautiful--  _ a body that is beautiful--  _ if Komaeda just cared enough to stop fucking in it--  _ if anybody cared at all.  _

**Author's Note:**

> well. this is certainly a concept i have written, i can say that much.
> 
> this was extremely cathartic to write, though i'm not certain why half my vent fics end up fairly explicit. that's a lie, i know exactly why. i don't quite know what i'm typing in this ending note, i just felt like i should say something, at least. since i typically do and this isn't. quite my usual type of content.
> 
> anyway, this is intended to be part of a series. not all of the fics in it will be explicit, but they're all sort of coping fics centered around various traumas i've recently been forced to come to terms with. so there is probably going to be more explicit fics yes. all will be about as cathartic to read as this which is to say. probably not cathartic? how many of you came here for pure sex and then ended up with existential bullshit? rhetorical question i can approximate.
> 
> oh, the only thing i meant to say here and i forgot it. the title is from "body talks" by the struts. all of these are vaguely song fics. oops. i don't actually know why i chose that song. i mean they certainly are fucking. 
> 
> hope you guys have a nice day. if you're going to have sex to cope with someone, please use a condom. that's all. bye. (also follow me on fieldofsunflower8 on tumblr if you want to hear me be a dumbass but 10% less traumatized and 90% less nsfw. ok this is my longest end note so bye now.)


End file.
